Pay Back
by Aleck Saunder
Summary: This is based on years after the incident in Montana (Marbles, Scarpa, and Teddy's death). Matty is 40 years old (rather than 28 as he is in the movie). This story contains flashbacks. Matty has a new problem and can't seem to get over it. He plans to kill two men in revenge because they've done something terrible. We won't find out what that was until Matty's last flashback...
1. On Watch, The Docks

It was three o'clock on a Tuesday morning. It was cloudy and cold out that day in New York. Matty Lamberti, formerly known as Matty Demaret, was now 40 years old. It had been twelve years since the incident in Montana took place. He had since changed his last name so getting a decent job would be easier; nobody would hire him as long as they knew he was related to an underboss. The surname he chose was his mother's maiden name, from before she married Benny "Chains" Demaret. She had also been Italian.

Matty sat still in his black Buick, the car he bought to replace his Cadillac. He was parked before what appeared to be a deserted, broken down building on the other side of the Brooklyn bridge. It was hidden, surrounded by trees, and was just by the water. Matty kept his dark and hateful eyes locked onto the entrance of the building as he waited for two particular men to exit. He was disappointed as three men opened the door and headed down a pathway; they weren't who he was looking for, but he knew they were of the same mafia family.

Day turned to night as Matty waited hours and hours, just sitting and watching. Finally, much to Matty's pleasure, one of the two men he was looking for left the building. At the sight of the man, Matty's heart jumped and his breath hitched in his throat. He'd never been the type that wanted to hurt or kill others; but this man he did. In fact, he'd never wanted to kill somebody as badly as he wanted to kill this man and his friend. He wanted to shoot him right then and there with his p226 pistol, the same gun he used to kill Teddy in Montana at the Beef Terminal. Though Matty was smart enough not to do that; he knew he'd be ganged up on and killed instantly at the first sound of gun shots. Matty wasn't afraid of death, but he wasn't willing to risk dying before the both of them were dead and buried. It was his mission to put them in the ground after what they'd done.

Matty took a breath and swallowed, starting his car and driving off, satisfied that he was right about where they'd been going. As he drove, his memories took over; they were vivid and clear, as if the past were his present.

Flashback...

It was twelve years ago. Matty and Taylor had just returned from Montana to New York. After everything that had happened, Matty became a different person; he realized that Taylor had been right and that the only thing you'd get being in the mob was a bullet to the head or life in jail. The death of his friends Chris Scarpa and Johnny Marbles was a big wake up call. So Matty gave his father the bag of money and proceeded with letting him know that he couldn't live up to his expectations, that he couldn't be a mobster and that he was done with all of it.

Once Matty left the building, Taylor immediately asked him if he'd told his father the news, that he was out. Matty confirmed much to Taylor's pleasure. He'd been a wreck knowing that Matty wasn't safe and it was a big relief. He walked over to Matty and looked him in the eyes as he gripped his arm and shook it.

"Good. Good, you're finally done with it..." the tattooed man had said.

"Done with this, too..." Matty replied, throwing the keys to his Cadillac threw the window. He didn't want it anymore; he'd only got it in the first place because it was the vehicle of a mobster, which was no longer what he wanted to be. He and Taylor then drove away into the city to get something to eat.

At the cafe, they sat side by side, sipping on coffee. Matty was thoughtful; he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at the Beef Terminal. He couldn't stop the image of Scarpa being shot from replaying in his mind over and over again. He tensed his jaw and swallowed, looking down at his cup of coffee, a sadness in his eyes.

"I never should have gotten them into it..." Matty suddeny said, his voice quiet and a frown on his face. Taylor looked at Matty, his brows creasing with pity.

"Matty, you can't blame yourself for what happened... Teddy's the fuck to blame," Taylor said, reassuring Matty. Matty nodded; he knew that was the case, but deep down, he felt he was partly responsible for the whole thing. If he hadn't been so desperate for his father's approval, he never would have asked Marbles to help deliver the bag of money, and Marbles then would have never lost it and none of what happened in Montana would have come to be.

After leaving the cafe, Taylor told Matty that he was going to go see his mother and let her know he was alright, as she asked him to do for her ever since he started doing the same work as his father. Matty rode in the van with Taylor, but asked to be dropped off by the docks; Taylor's mother was very protective of her son and once seeing the bullet wounds, she wouldn't take it easy on Matty and he knew it. Taylor obliged, instinctually understanding why Matty wanted to stay back.

So once Taylor left for his mother's house, Matty sat down at the docks, letting his feet hang over the edge as he thought. Memories of the time in Montana constantly pestered him. He'd never see his friends, again. He'd never be able to hang out with Scarpa as they did every weekend, he'd never again be able to tease Marbles. There was a deep sadness and a slight sickness brought on by the thought of their deaths. There was also anger as he knew that uncle Teddy was the cause of all of it. That he'd been the one to order his men to kill Marbles and Scarpa, even after he promised that Matty's friends wouldn't be hurt. But it had been a lie; everything had been a lie, ever since Teddy took Matty into the basement when he was 12 years old to kill Bobby Boulevard. He felt so betrayed; he was glad to have killed that greedy and manipulative piece of shit.


	2. Alone, The Restaurant

Present...

Matty parked in the drive way to his apartment building, shutting the door and locking the car once he stepped out. He wore all black; his black jacket, a black t-shirt, black slacks and black loafers. He opened the door to the building then went up the stairs to the highest floor, unlocking the door then shutting and locking it once inside. He was alone, yet again; he was always alone. He tensed his jaw as he removed his shoes and coat; frowned as he walked through the living room and over to his bed room. He walked over to his beaureu, opening a drawer and taking out his blue pajama pants and a pair of black boxer briefs. He headed to the bathroom, stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

Matty undressed, removing his shirt, pants and briefs so he was nude. He then stepped over to the shower, pulling the curtain to the side and turning the dial. He waited for the water to warm up, then stepped into the tub. He washed his hair, scrubbing at his head, then ran the bar of soap along his body. He washed himself thoroughly as he usually did; he'd always been a clean person. Once finished, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, taking a towel off the rack. He dried his hair, dried his body, and then put on the new pair of briefs, his pajama pants and the shirt he'd worn that day.

After putting on some Old Spice, a deodorant, Matty picked up the phone and ordered something from the pizza place. He asked for it to be delivered; he didn't care to leave at that moment. There was a knock on his door thirty minutes later, and Matty opened it, taking the box of pizza and giving the delivery boy the money for the order and also a big tip. Even at 40, he was still very generous with his money.

Matty sat in his black chair near the heater and turned the TV on, watching the sports channel as he always did. He had two slices of pizza then put the rest in the refrigerator for later.

Having washed and eaten, Matty was finished for the day and again memories took over. He stared into space, looking at the TV but not watching or seeing it. His heart began to race and his stomach turned. He tried to shake the thoughts away but to no avail. He wished that the next day wasn't Wednesday, a work day; he wanted to drown his sorrows in liquor, to forget about and numb his pain. Instead, he got up from his chair and walked over to his coat, taking a cigarette pack out of the pocket. He opened the box and got a stick, lit it, sucked on it again and again. It momentarily relaxed him, if only slightly, but his memories were unable to be forgotten.

Flashback...

After seeing his mother, Taylor drove back to the docks, observing Matty as he sat alone. Taylor pressed his lips together then honked the horn, getting Matty's attention. Matty turned his head and looked at Taylor then got up from his sitting position and walked back to the van, getting inside.

"Where do we go from here?" Taylor asked.

"Ah, just head to my apartment," Matty replied. He hesitated before he continued. "You tell her what happened?"

"Nah. Tried to avoid it. But you know my mom. The second she saw the bandages, she started asking questions," said Taylor, looking out the window as he turned the wheel.

"What'd you say?" Matty asked, this time looking at Taylor; wondering if he'd told his mother that he got shot trying to save him.

"Told her I was fine. That she didn't need to worry," Taylor replied, turning down another street. Matty nodded and looked out the window, then back at Taylor. A tender feeling came over him every time he was reminded that Taylor had risked his life for him. He'd never felt so important or cared for, not even by his own father.

Once Taylor pulled into the drive way, both got out of the van, Taylor following Matty up the stairs and to his floor. When inside, both removed their shoes and coats then sat down on the black coach near Matty's chair to watch TV. Matty took a couple cigarettes out of the pack in his black slacks, handing one to Taylor who took it thankfully. Matty lit his own stick first and then brought the lighter to Taylor's and lit his once it was between the man's lips. Both inhaled then blew out the smoke, eyes on the TV but minds elsewhere.

As the hours passed, Taylor mentioned he was hungry so they went out to eat as they sometimes did together. They went to an expensive restaurant named Tommy's Dining Spot; sat at a table and talked as they waited for their waiter. Once he arrived, Matty ordered fish and Taylor ordered steak, both with a glass of red wine. When the food finally arrived and they started eating, Matty looked up and saw that blood was soaking through Taylor's gray sweater. He pressed his lips together, brows creasing in pity.

"Taylor..." Matty said, softly, eyes on Taylor's wounded shoulder. Taylor followed Matty's eyes and looked down at his sweater, seeing the blood soaking through it. It was his most comfortable sweater and he was somewhat disappointed, though didn't dwell on it; he knew it was only a sweater. Taylor pulled it up over his head so he was in only a black t-shirt, the blood no longer visible except on the gauze that covered his wound. He then continued to eat, nonchalantly. When he looked back up at Matty, he realized the sympathy on the man's face.

"Don't worry about it," Taylor said, running his knife through the piece of steak.

"Shit, Taylor..." was all Matty could say. He tensed his jaw, hesitating. "What were you thinkin', huh...?" he added, voice softening with the tender emotions he felt. Taylor knew he was referring to the moment at the Beef Terminal when he jumped in front of the bullets that were heading for Matty. Taylor looked at Matty a moment before he spoke.

"You think I was gonna let that fucker kill you?" he asked in return, squinting at Matty as if he were ridiculous. "Nah. Not if I could stop it," Taylor continued in his deep voice. Matty blinked, keeping his eyes on Taylor. For the first time that day, all negativity had been replaced.

To be continued...


End file.
